Falling
by SupernaturalGeek
Summary: A close encounter with a spirit during a routine hunt leaves Dean falling in more ways than one. Will he let Sam catch him? Winner in R11 of the Sensue Supernatural fanfiction awards: Stuck With Me - Family - Category.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: I have done a little research about this on-line but am by no means a medical expert, so apologies for any inaccuracies! Hope you like it :)_

Sam glanced down at his watch for what had to be the hundredth time in the last 10 minutes and let out another frustrated sigh. The corridor he'd been pacing along ever since the medical team had rushed his brother out of sight felt claustrophobic, but there was no way he was going to leave, even for a second, to get some air.

He knew Dean was gonna kill him for bringing him to a hospital but right now he would happily listen to his brother bitch about it for hours if it meant he was ok.

If he closed his eyes he could still see Dean flying through the air and crashing into a tree with a sickening crunch. Only years of training had enabled him to maintain just enough composure to finish the salt and burn the spirit currently attacking them was so opposed to, and the flames had barely caught before he was running across the cemetery to where Dean had fallen.

As he'd placed shaking fingers against Dean's neck he'd literally held his breath, relief flooding through him when he'd felt a pulse after what seemed like an eternity. He hadn't been overly alarmed by the blood that had soaked the collar of Dean's shirt – they'd both had enough head injuries over the years for Sam to know how much they bled – but what had scared him was how unresponsive he'd been. There'd not been a flicker to Sam's frantic pleas for Dean to wake up, not even when Sam had carried him over his shoulder to where the Impala was parked just outside the cemetery gates.

He'd laid Dean gently in the passenger seat and only his brother's voice in his head warning him about damaging his baby had made him drive with the vaguest hint of caution. Any concern about cops or Feds was overwhelmed by fear Dean might be really hurt and Sam had already decided he could deal with whatever consequences there might be just as long as he knew his brother was going to be alright.

Another glance at his watch told him only a minute had passed since his last check. Chewing his lip he finally dropped into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, his gaze straying back to the double doors through which Dean had disappeared. There had been no eyebrows raised at how the injury had occurred, the doctors accepting without question that Dean had simply taken a tumble down some stone steps. Their fake insurance details had been given, questions answered, and now Sam had nothing to do except wait.

He really wished he hadn't had so much practice at that where Dean was concerned.

Suddenly the doors opened and Sam was out his chair before the doctor even came through them fully.

"Mr Anderson?" said the doctor, holding out his hand as he approached Sam.

Sam took it absently, interested only in what the man had to say.

"Yes. How's my brother?" he said, every muscle in his body tense as he waited for the answer.

"Well, the good news is he woke up a little while ago. He's very groggy, but he knew where he was and answered the majority of questions we asked him correctly. We gave him a scan and there's no sign of any skull fracture or bleeding on the brain. He has been vomiting but that's fairly common after such a blow to the head. He is however also suffering from what we call temporary vertigo. Basically the symptoms are the same as with regular vertigo – vomiting, severe dizziness, trouble with balance - the difference is these symptoms will disappear with time, usually within a few days but occasionally up to a few months."

Sam frowned anxiously. "So what does that mean?" he said and the doctor smiled reassuringly.

"It means that your brother is going to be feel pretty awful until this clears up, but there should be no lasting ill effects and none of the symptoms are life threatening. We would prefer to keep him in overnight for observation, although he's made it fairly clear he's not keen on that idea."

Sam couldn't help smirking at that. He could well imagine what Dean's reaction had been to hearing that particular gem.

"So he'll be ok to leave tomorrow?" he asked and the doctor nodded.

"Barring any complications, yes. He'll need to take it easy but that most likely won't be an issue anyway given the symptoms he's going to be dealing with." he said.

_You really don't know my brother_ thought Sam but aloud he said "Can I see him?"

"Of course. We're just getting a bed arranged upstairs but if you'll just follow me I can take you to him now. He's been asking about you actually." said the doctor as he began to walk back towards the doors.

Sam shook his head fondly as he followed him. Of course Dean had been asking about him. It was as predictable as the sun coming up that despite whatever injuries Dean might have his first concern was always going to be his little brother.

It was both comforting and insanely frustrating.

As he showed Sam to a curtained area where Dean was the doctor said something about being back to check on him later, but Sam wasn't really listening anymore. All he was interested in was seeing for himself that Dean really was ok.

As he pulled back the curtain and stepped inside he was a little shocked by the first sight of his brother.

Dean was lying on the bed, clad in a hospital gown that had replaced the bloodied shirt he'd come in with, his eyes closed and his face pale. His hands, Sam noticed, were clenched around the thin blanket that was covering him almost as if he was holding on to it like a life-raft. He hadn't even reacted yet to Sam's arrival and Sam felt his stomach clench as he wondered if the doctors had somehow missed something.

"Dean?" he said softly as he approached the bed.

Dean's eyes snapped open and he turned his head towards Sam, only for what little colour had been left in his face to suddenly drain from it. Sam's quick thinking meant he already had a plastic bowl - clearly left on the table for such an occurrence - in front of Dean seconds before he actually started to throw up.

Sam grimaced but as he slid an arm round Dean's shoulders to support him he said nothing, knowing his brother wouldn't appreciate any soothing – and to his mind, girly – words of comfort and instead letting his presence provide some of that instead.

Once Dean had finished Sam helped him lie back down and put the bowl as far out of reach as possible. Turning back to Dean, Sam saw he was lying totally still and his eyes were now open but staring at the ceiling as if there was about to be some sort of exam on the type of tiling the hospital had used.

Stepping close to the bed and leaning over so he was in Dean's field of vision, Sam gave a relieved smile.

"So I guess asking how are you would be a dumb question right now?" he teased gently and Dean's gaze flicked to him very carefully and very slowly.

"Do me a favour and imagine me rolling my eyes right now, would you?" he said dryly and although his voice sounded weaker than Sam would have liked the response was pure Dean and Sam couldn't stop himself chuckling.

As far as he was concerned sarcasm had never sounded so good.

"So I talked to the doctor and he says they're keeping you in overnight." he said and Dean snorted.

"That's what they think. Come on Sam, no way I need to stay here just for a bang on the head." he said and now it was Sam's turn to snort.

"Right. Cos it's not like just looking in my direction just made you throw up." he said dryly and Dean sighed.

"I knew you were gonna make a big deal out of this." he said and Sam raised his eyebrows.

"A big deal? Dean, do you have any idea how hard you hit that tree? Or how long you were unconscious for? You scared the hell out of me, man, and as far as I'm concerned if the doctor says you need to stay overnight then you are staying overnight." he said firmly.

Dean knew there was no point arguing with Sam when he used that tone of voice. Plus, annoyingly, his brother had a point. Right now even moving his eyes let alone his head made him feel as if he was on a boat stuck in a storm.

"Did they ask any awkward questions?" he said, wanting to make sure at least that their little trip to the ER hadn't attracted any unwanted attention and Sam shook his head.

"No. I said you fell down some concrete steps and no one said a thing. What name did you give when they asked you?" he said and Dean smirked.

"Dean Anderson." he said and Sam looked surprised.

"How did you know I'd go for that card?" he said, curiously.

"Because I'm your big brother." said Dean and Sam laughed, even as he shook his head again.

Sometimes it amazed even him how in tune they could be most of the time.

At that moment the curtains were pulled back and two orderlies came in. They cheerfully announced Dean's overnight accommodation was ready and began to move the bed slowly towards the corridor.

Clearly they'd been told about Dean's vertigo, given the care with which they moved, but Sam could see despite that Dean was still struggling with any movement at all. He watched as his brother swallowed several times, clearly fighting the urge to be sick.

Sam felt frustrated there was nothing he could do to make this better, but instinctively he reached out and put his hand on top of Dean's. Given Dean's usual aversion to personal contact Sam was unprepared for the way he grabbed hold of it and held on so tightly Sam was in danger of losing circulation. He knew Dean must be feeling really bad to do something so drastic, so he said nothing and simply held on hoping that he was at least providing some sort of anchor in the storm Dean was currently trapped in.

By the time the orderlies were positioning Dean's bed in a small room on the second floor, Sam's hand had gone numb. He smiled gratefully at them and murmured thanks as they both left the room. Turning his attention back to Dean he put his other hand lightly on Dean's arm.

"Hey. We're here, Dean." he said quietly and Dean opened his eyes then shut them again, tightly.

"Damn, Sammy, could you turn down the light?" he said and Sam cursed himself for not having thought of that on the way in.

"Just a second." he said, managing to prise his hand out of Dean's grip.

He crossed over to the door quickly and flicked the light switch next to it. For a moment the room was lit only by the glow from the corridor coming through the window, but then Sam switched on the lamp that sat on the cabinet next to Dean's bed. Walking back over to the window he closed the blinds, to both shut out the extra light and give Dean some privacy, and then went back over to the bed.

"All done." he said and Dean opened his eyes again.

Although he grimaced briefly he was able to keep them open this time and he swallowed a couple more times as his stomach churned rebelliously.

"I swear to God Sam, I am never going on a rollercoaster ever again." he groaned and Sam winced sympathetically.

"The doctor said it will wear off." he said, deliberately leaving out the possibility that it could take months. He crossed his fingers and said a prayer that in Dean's case it was a matter of days, if not hours preferably.

"Terrific. I'd do a happy dance but I think my head might fall off." said Dean and Sam rolled his eyes.

"Well at least your so called sense of humour is intact." he said and Dean glared at him. Or rather did the best imitation of a glare he could, given the fact he couldn't actually focus on Sam right now.

"Bite me." he said and Sam just chuckled.

Any humour in the situation disappeared though as Dean grimaced in pain and shut his eyes again, clearly feeling another wave of dizziness hit him.

Sam put his hand on Dean's shoulder and squeezed it, knowing nothing he could say right now would make him feel better. He felt helpless and wished he had some kind of magic wand he could wave to make it all go away.

He really was starting to get more than a little pissed off at the way the universe kept knocking his brother around like this.

"Do you want me to get the nurse to give you something for the pain?" said Sam softly and Dean almost shook his head before he remembered that would _really_ not be a good idea right now.

"No. They already gave me something earlier anyway." he said and Sam frowned, knowing that for all he knew Dean could have refused anything stronger than an aspirin.

"Why don't you try and get some sleep then? It's pretty late." he said, glancing at his watch and seeing that it was almost midnight.

Dean sighed. "I would if the room would stop spinning for five seconds." he said, sounding weary and frustrated.

Sam hated hearing him sound so exhausted and cursed the luck that had turned a simple salt and burn into such an ordeal for his brother.

"Just try to relax – focus on something else." he said aloud and Dean opened one eye long enough to stare incredulously in Sam's general direction.

"Dude, if you start quoting any of that meditation crap or telling me how to breathe I will hurl again." he said and Sam rolled his eyes.

"Nice, Dean. I'm trying to help you here." said Sam dryly and Dean sighed but closed his eyes again anyway.

Knowing he was chancing bodily harm but willing to take the risk anyway, Sam put his hand back on top of Dean's, and with his thumb began to make a soothing motion back and forth across the back of Dean's hand. Either Dean was too miserable to care about the touchy-feely moment or he was storing it up for retribution later. Either way Sam didn't care if it actually did some good.

Dean still felt like he was floating in stormy sea, buffeted by wave after wave, but he had to admit what Sam was doing was distracting and also kind of comforting.

Although that admittance was so not going any further than his own mind.

He tried to concentrate on the soothing motion and gradually he felt himself start to drift off. He wanted to say something to Sam, tell him he should go back to the motel room for the night at least, but he couldn't get his brain to cooperate and as he felt himself falling asleep properly he realised part of him was actually kind of glad to have Sam there with him.

He really was never gonna live this down.

Sam watched as Dean's breathing grew heavier and more even, and he saw Dean's face gradually relax until finally he was asleep. He kept up the movement on Dean's hand for a while longer though, not above admitting to himself that he was finding the contact as comforting as Dean probably was.

Once he was sure Dean was asleep properly he moved his hand and sat back in the chair. Now the adrenaline was wearing off he was pretty exhausted himself. Nearly losing your brother, AGAIN, tended to take it out of a person he reflected a little bitterly.

He supposed he should be grateful that things hadn't turned out as badly as they could have. Trouble was it was hard to feel grateful about anything when Dean was suffering once again simply because they'd been doing the right thing and putting a vengeful spirit to rest.

Not for the first time recently he wished he could protect Dean from all this. For all Dean's protests that it was his job to protect Sam, Sam felt the same way about his big brother, even though he dare not voice that opinion out loud.

At least not in Dean's presence anyway.

His self flagellation was interrupted by a huge yawn and realising he was helping no one by sitting here brooding over what had happened, Sam settled down in the chair and prepared to sleep watchfully by Dean's side.


	2. Chapter 2

When Dean woke up he forgot for a moment what had happened and made the mistake of moving his head to one side to see where he was.

The feeling of the entire room tilting on it's axis was enough to remind him of the previous days events and also one hell of a lesson that moving was a _really _bad idea.

"Sam!" he managed to get out and the way his brother jerked upright, blinking owlishly, would have been amusing were it not for the fact he was about to hurl.

"What? Dean?" said Sam, his brain trying to catch up with the speedy wake up call.

One look at Dean's face though told him all that was important right now and he grabbed a bowl and had it in front of his brother with lightening speed.

He winced as Dean heaved, even though there was nothing there. He was reduced to rubbing his hand over Dean's back in a soothing motion again and he wished for the millionth time there was something he could do.

When Dean was finally done Sam helped him lie back down. Putting the bowl out of sight he poured some water into a glass and put his hand on Dean's shoulder.

Dean opened his eyes, which had been squeezed shut, and squinted up at Sam.

"You should try and drink something." said Sam softly and Dean sighed but he let Sam help him sit up and hold the glass to his mouth so he could drink. He should have been holding the glass on his own and telling Sam not to mother him, but right now he really didn't care.

He wondered if he could persuade Sam to shoot him later.

The few sips Dean managed weren't really enough in Sam's opinion but he was aware now was not a good time to start pushing his brother.

"I really hope next time the spirit just kills me and has done with it." said Dean as he waited for the room to stop spinning.

He swore he actually _felt _Sam's glare and sure enough when he opened one eye and glanced at his brother, Sam looked anything but amused.

"So not funny, Dean." he said and Dean sighed.

"Trust me, if you could feel what this is like you'd put me out of my misery." he said.

What do you know? It actually was possible for Sam to glare more than he already was.

"Dean.." he began but Dean held his hand up.

"Look, just forget I said it ok? Can we please talk about something else – like when the hell I can get out of here?" he said.

Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm not sure you should be in such a rush to leave, Dean. I mean you can't even move your head without throwing up, how are you going to walk out of here?" he said, his voice radiating concern.

Dean opened both eyes and managed to actually focus on Sam with as much force as he could manage.

Which admittedly really wasn't that much right now. But it was the principle that counted.

"Sam, I swear I am leaving this hospital if I have to crawl on my hands and knees. Now will you please go and see about getting me signed out?" he said.

"You are so stubborn." said Sam, frustrated, but Dean just continued to stare until finally he gave in.

"Fine!" he said, throwing his hands up and storming out of the room in search of Dean's doctor.

Despite how cosmically awful he felt Dean had to grin. Sam still threw a tantrum like he did when he was 5 years old when it came down to it.

10 minutes later Sam came back in the room.

"Ok, so your doctor said there's nothing they can really do so they're letting you leave. I've done all the paperwork so all we need to do it get you dressed and we're good to go." he said.

"_We _are not getting me dressed, Sammy – not unless you wanna wind up on your ass." said Dean and Sam snorted.

"It's Sam, and you're the one who's gonna be on your ass if you don't let me help you. Quit being so stubborn." he said.

Dean debated digging his heels in but truth was despite the bravado he really wasn't sure he could manage getting dressed by himself right now. Hell, sitting up without his head exploding was gonna be an issue.

"Fine." he said, through gritted teeth.

Sam smiled a little at the victory but was careful not to let Dean see. They might as well try and keep things non violent, for now at least.

Going over to the locker he grabbed Dean's stuff. Dropping it on the edge of the bed he went back round the other side and helped Dean push back the blankets.

"Ok, you ready?" he said, sliding his arm behind Dean's shoulders.

Dean put a hand on Sam's chest to stop him for a second.

"I swear to God, one inspirational comment or so much as a 'well done' comes outta your mouth I will shoot you as soon as I can see straight." he said warningly.

Sam couldn't stop himself grinning at the typical Dean-ness of that comment.

"You mean I should cancel the cheerleaders who were gonna do a routine while I helped you tie your shoes?" he said dryly and Dean whacked him lightly on the back of the head.

"Wise ass. Lets just please get this over with." he said, feeling colour creeping into his cheeks already at the fact his little brother was about to help him get dressed.

"Hey." said Sam softly and when Dean looked up he saw Sam was completely serious suddenly.

"This is not a big deal, ok? Just think of it as payback for all the times you helped me get dressed." he said with a smile and Dean found himself touched that Sam seemed to think this was not an issue.

He swallowed. "Yeah well, you always did have this mental block about colours. I swear if I hadn't taken care of it you'd have spent your whole childhood looking like you got dressed by Stevie Wonder." he said, trying to lighten the moment.

"I liked bright things." said Sam defensively, knowing full well what Dean was doing.

Deciding he couldn't put it off any longer, Dean took a deep breath and sat up with Sam's help. He closed his eyes as everything span and held onto Sam's arms so tightly he was sure he would leave bruises.

Sam meanwhile took Dean's comments to heart and kept quiet, just making sure wasn't going to slide off the bed and letting him get his bearings.

Eventually after a few minutes Dean risked opening his eyes. Everything was at a weird angle that made him feel like he was in one of those Fun Houses at the fair but if he kept pretty still he could just about live with it.

"Ok?" said Sam, watching him intently and Dean was about to nod when he remembered that was really not a good idea.

"Yeah, I'm good." he said and didn't miss Sam's incredulous look that told him his brother was of the opinion he was far from good.

Between them they managed to get him dressed without him throwing up or passing out, which Dean considered a minor miracle right now. The fact Sam was giving the impression this was the most natural thing in the world for him to be doing made the whole situation a lot less embarrassing and Dean was grateful for that.

He held tightly onto the edge of the bed while Sam put his boots on.

"Ok, you wait here and I'll go get the wheelchair." said Sam as he stood up.

"Oh come on! No way, Sam – not in a million years." said Dean firmly but Sam wasn't giving in this time.

"You got no choice, man. It's hospital policy. Either you leave in the chair or you stay here." he said and Dean practically growled.

"God I hate hospitals." he said, glaring at the world in general.

Sam took that as acceptance and disappeared into the hallway briefly, coming back with a standard issue wheelchair that Dean looked at as if it was possessed.

"It's not gonna bite you know." said Sam, his lips twitching and Dean glared at him.

"This from the man who was frightened of a clown chair." he retorted and now it was Sam's turn to glare.

"I knew I shoulda let you fall on your face." he muttered, even though both of them knew that would never happen.

Dean got into the chair with a little help from Sam and sat there, staring mutinously at everything.

Sam made sure he had the list of instructions and the prescription he was going to pick up later in his pocket and carefully took the brake off on the chair.

"Just let me know if you want to stop." he said and Dean huffed.

"Just get it over with would you?" he said and Sam turned the chair round slowly so they were facing the door.

Dean tried closing his eyes but quickly realised that made things worse. Instead he found a fixed point on his leg and tried to stare at that. If he concentrated hard enough he could just about live with the movement.

He was relieved when they reached the doors after what felt like an eternity and he took a deep gulp of fresh air as he felt his stomach churning.

"Car's just over there." said Sam, putting the brake on and walking round to help Dean get up.

Dean looked up and by squinting he was able to focus enough to see the Impala. Looking at his baby gleaming in the sun was enough to make him smile as always and Sam rolled his eyes. It really did scare him sometimes the relationship his brother had with that car.

He put his hand on Dean's shoulder, but before he could say anything Dean batted it away.

"I got it." he said and Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Oh really?" he said and Dean looked up at him. Or at least in his general direction.

"Yes, really." he said.

Letting Sam help him get dressed when only the two of them would ever know about it was one thing. Having his little brother help him to the car was an entirely different ball game.

"Fine. Go right ahead." said Sam, stepping back and standing there with an expectant look on his face.

Dean did his best to ignore him, concentrating instead on the Impala. He could do this. It was just a matter of standing up and walking, something he'd been doing since he was a year old. How hard could it be?

To Sam's credit he didn't yell 'I told you so' or do a victory dance when Dean stood up and promptly lurched forwards, heading for the asphalt at speed. With the reflexes of a hunter he caught his brother and held on tightly while Dean gripped Sam's arms again despite himself and closed his eyes as he waited for the world to right itself.

Sam gave him a few moments before he spoke.

"Now will you let me help you to the car?" he said, with just a hint of smugness in his voice. It was hard to enjoy being proved right when Dean was so clearly suffering.

"Dude, I am not holding your hand to get to the damn car!" growled Dean and Sam huffed.

"Fine! Fall on your face and inch your way across the parking lot using your nose – be my guest." said Sam with frustration.

Dean muttered something under his breath that Sam had a feeling he should be glad he didn't hear before his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Alright, let's just get this over with." he said flatly and Sam found himself hating the defeated tone of Dean's voice.

"Put your arm round my back and just let me steer, ok?" he said softly, trying to leave Dean as much dignity as possible.

Dean heard the worry and sympathy in Sam's voice but he didn't really care right now. He just wanted to get back to the motel and lie down until this whole thing went away.

"Hey – you alright?" said Sam gently and Dean opened his eyes to be confronted with Sam's worried expression.

He sighed to himself. This wasn't Sam's fault and he knew he wasn't being fair taking it out on him.

"Yeah." he said, trying to look apologetic since he wasn't actually going to say the 's' word out loud.

Years of experience meant Sam saw it though and he smiled briefly in acknowledgement.

Dean was pretty sure they must have looked like they were drunk, given the way they weaved their way to the Impala even with Sam doing his best to keep them in a straight line. He'd never been so grateful to actually reach his baby and he clung onto the roof briefly as Sam opened the door.

Sliding into the seat Dean waited for Sam to shut the door and then leant back against it, so he was kind of wedged in the corner.

Sam got in the driver's side and shot him the 20th concerned look of the hour.

Not that Dean was keeping count.

"Are you.."

Sam didn't get to finish his sentence as Dean cut him off.

"I swear, Sam, if you ask me if I'm ok one more time I am not gonna be the only one with a head injury." he warned.

Sam sighed. Oh yeah – this was gonna be a _long _few days.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean had never not enjoyed being in his beloved car but he had to admit, even if only to himself, he had never been so glad to reach a motel in all his life. It had taken every bit of concentration he had not to throw up all over his baby's interior – he felt there should be some sort of medal for that fact alone.

He'd tried closing his eyes when they first started moving but he quickly discovered that just made it worse. Looking out of the window was really not an option, so in the end he'd focused on a small spot on his jeans and concentrated on breathing as shallowly as possible. He was still aware, in the periphery of his vision, of Sam glancing across at him every 5 seconds. He would have told him to watch the road but given the fact Sam was driving slower than most old ladies right now, it was unlikely there was any chance of them hitting anything anyway.

Plus he'd have been wasting his breath. Sam was in full fledged 'hover' mode and Dean knew he was just gonna have to suck it up and live with it. At least until he could stand up on his own.

He really hoped that would be any minute now.

Sam hadn't thought Dean could get any paler but by the time they pulled into the Motel's parking lot his brother was practically transparent. He stopped as gently as possible and switched off the engine.

"We're here." he said and Dean shifted his head very slowly to look up at Sam.

"And here I was thinking it was gonna be at least another day before we got back." he said dryly.

Sam frowned at him. "What's that supposed to mean?" he said and Dean smirked.

"Dude, you were overtaken by _Grannies_ back there." he said and Sam huffed.

"I was trying to be nice so you didn't end up passing out and sliding into the footwell. Next time I won't bother."

Dean looked indignant. "I do not pass out. I'm not a girl." he said.

Sam opened the door and got out, muttering under his breath about leaving Dean in the car for the rest of the day."

Dean had managed to push himself up so he wasn't resting on the door anymore and when Sam opened it he swung his legs round till his feet were on the floor.

At least he assumed that must be the floor. He still wasn't entirely sure just which way was up right now.

Insults about driving forgotten, Sam crouched down and put his hands on Dean's shoulders to steady him.

"You ready?" he said softly and Dean managed a brief nod. Putting his hands on Sam's forearms and gripping hard enough to leave marks, he took a deep breath and with Sam's help stood up.

He swallowed convulsively a couple of times and Sam said nothing, just waiting patiently until Dean was ready to attempt moving. Eventually Dean managed to look up and focus on Sam's face.

"So are we going in or are you planning on standing out here all day?" he said, as if it had been Sam who wasn't ready to move yet.

Sam rolled his eyes and moved so that he was next to Dean. Putting his arm around Dean's shoulders he waited until Dean had put his arm round his back and was gripping Sam's jacket.

Using the same weaving walk they had when they left the hospital, they crossed the short distance to the Motel room. Sam unlocked the door, pushed it open with one hand and once inside eased Dean down on his bed gently.

Dean lay down instantly, feeling like he'd just run a marathon rather than walking a couple of hundred yards. Sam dropped the keys on the table, closed the door and turned back to his brother. Dean was vaguely aware of Sam taking off his boots and somehow getting him out of his jacket without moving him too much, but he felt too awful to even protest.

He really, really did want someone to shoot him right now.

He must have drifted off at some point because when he next opened his eyes the room was darker and one of the bedside lamps was switched on. He could hear tapping on a keyboard and when he slowly moved his head to one side, waiting briefly for the room to catch up, he saw Sam sat at the table working away on the laptop.

"Hey." he said, surprised at how croaky his voice sounded.

Sam's head snapped up as he heard Dean's voice and he grinned when he saw his brother looking at him.

"Hey. How you feeling?" he said and Dean half shrugged.

"I don't feel like throwing up so that's a start." he said and Sam chuckled.

"Yeah. You hungry?"

Dean thought about it. Now he wasn't feeling nauseous for 5 minutes his stomach was growling a little.

"I think I could eat." he said and Sam nodded.

"Alright. I'll go get us something and I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere, ok?" he said giving Dean a warning look and Dean raised his eyebrows since eye rolling was still out.

"Sam, I can't even stand up straight – where the hell do you think I'm going to go?" he said.

Seemingly satisfied Sam stood up, grabbed his jacket, and with a final glance back at his brother headed out.

Dean lay there looking at the piece of sky he could see through window. Although the day was overcast and cloudy, looking like it was about to rain any second, it did seem pretty dark for morning and Dean reached out slowly and managed to pick up his watch which Sam had left on the bedside cabinet. When it eventually came into focus Dean was surprised to see it was already 3 o'clock in the afternoon. He hadn't realised he'd slept for that long, but he guessed it was his body's way of telling him he needed the rest. He wondered if Sam had been sat there the whole time. Knowing his brother he had.

Dean mentally shook his head – Sam must be starving by now.

He decided to try sitting up, which was when he noticed that aside from being under the blankets he was also now in sweatpants instead of the jeans he'd left the hospital in. He flushed a little as he realised Sam must have got him changed and put him to bed properly after he'd fallen asleep. He smiled – it was kind of nice actually.

Although they were so never bringing it up in conversation. Ever.

Pushing the thought aside, he dragged himself up until he was resting against the headboard. The room was still tilting at a weird angle but the complete dizziness and urge to throw up had definitely eased. Dean found himself hoping this was a good sign, that it meant the vertigo was starting to clear up already. The doctor had said that sometimes it could last for as little as a week after the initial injury.

As he sat there he suddenly realised he needed the bathroom.

Great.

Well, he had two options – wait for Sam to come back and hope he wasn't too long, or risk the trip himself. He looked over at the bathroom door.

It wasn't _that_ far. And he wouldn't technically be going anywhere, since he'd still be in the Motel room.

Decision made he took a deep breath and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He sat there blinking, as for a brief moment he wasn't sure once again which way was up. He sighed. This was really getting old.

Satisfied at last that the room had stopped spinning about as much as it was going to, Dean took one more deep breath and stood up.

It didn't feel like he was falling. In fact it didn't feel like he'd moved at all. But clearly he had, as he was now face down on the carpet getting a fantastic view underneath Sam's bed.

Several things occurred to him.

Firstly, they really needed to run a vacuum round under the beds. There were dust bunnies under there that looked older than him. Secondly, he so did not want to know what was on this carpet, especially now he was getting an up close and personal view of it. He was going to shower for a week when he eventually got up. And of course last, but by no means least, he was stuck. On the floor. In a heap.

Sam was gonna be so pissed when he got back.

Oh yeah – and he still needed the bathroom.

Unaware of Dean's current predicament, Sam was waiting patiently at the Diner just down the road. He'd probably ordered far too much food but he figured they could always eat some of it cold later. From his own point of view he was more than ready to eat, and he knew Dean hadn't had anything since lunchtime the previous day. Plus of course he'd thrown up everything since the vertigo had kicked in anyway.

Conscious of Dean's current unstable digestive system Sam avoided the usual greasy favourites and had instead ordered fairly plain roast chicken, mashed potatoes and green beans. He'd got some bread rolls too and some apple pie for later, in case the first part of the meal went well. He knew Dean wouldn't be too pleased with the healthy options but he'd thank him later. Maybe. At least he was bringing pie.

It took about 10 minutes for the order to be ready and Sam found himself looking at his watch anxiously. He really wasn't happy about having left Dean alone and the longer it was, the more worried he got. It wasn't that he didn't trust his brother, but he knew full well they both had different ideas about what was best when it came to Dean's health. Add to that the streak of Winchester stubbornness and you had a frustrating combination.

Hearing his number called, Sam stepped up to the counter, took the bag with a smile and quickly headed back to the Impala. By the time he pulled up in front of the room again he'd been gone about 20 minutes altogether. He opened the door, closed it behind him and turned round.

The first thing he noticed was that Dean's bed was empty. He felt his stomach flip – he knew he should never have left.

"Dean!" he called out, dumping the bag of food on the table without even looking.

"Right here, Sam." came a weary voice from between the two beds.

Frowning in confusion Sam took a couple of steps and suddenly his brother came into view, lying face down between the beds, hands splayed on the floor as if he was holding on.

Sam stood there torn between concern and anger. Anger won out for the moment.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded and Dean sighed.

_Here we go_ he thought.

"What the hell do you think happened, Sam? I liked the carpet so much I wanted a better view." he said.

Sam wasn't in the mood for Dean's sarcasm right now though.

"That's hilarious, Dean, really. What did I ask you to do, huh? What did you promise me before I left? That you were gonna stay put! Why can't you just for once do as I ask?"

Sam's yelling really wasn't helping the headache that was taking up residence behind in Dean's skull, nor was it improving Dean's mood any.

"I didn't promise anything and besides, I didn't actually go anywhere – I'm still right here in case you hadn't noticed!" he said, his own voice rising now.

"Oh sure, argue the details why don't you? The point is you got out of bed even though you knew it was a bad idea, even though I asked you not to, and look what happened! What if you'd hit your head again? What if you'd broken your neck for God's sake? I was only gone 20 minutes, what was so important you couldn't wait for me to get back?" he demanded.

"First off, I didn't hit my head although your yelling at me is really not helping by the way, and secondly – break my neck? Could you be a little more dramatic, Sammy? I don't need a babysitter you know."

Sam threw his hands up in frustration. "Right. I'm sorry, I had this dumb idea I was actually helping. Silly me." he said, sounding hurt now as well as angry.

Dean winced. Perfect. This really was going _so_ well.

"You know do you think we could maybe debate this with me in a more comfortable position? I lie on this carpet any longer I think it's gonna bond with me." he said and Sam felt a stab of guilt. He really should have helped Dean up first and yelled second.

Saying nothing he reached down and took hold of Dean's shoulders. He lifted him gently, despite the fact he was still mad and they were absolutely not done with the conversation, and helped him sit back on the bed.

Dean felt everything tilt again and held onto Sam's arms even though this was not helping his point about not needing a babysitter. He suspected it would help his case even less if he slid off the bed and right back onto the floor.

When he was sure he wasn't going to fall again he transferred his grip to the edge of the bed and looked up at Sam, squinting slightly.

Yep. That was the expression he'd been expecting. The one that made Sam look like he'd just chewed something that moved.

"Well?" said Sam, once he was sure Dean was upright and going to stay that way for now at least.

"Well what?" said Dean and Sam counted to 10 silently as he reminded himself he wasn't allowed to hit his brother round the head. Yet.

"Can you not do as I ask for 5 minutes? I'm trying to help you here, Dean, why must you always make that so difficult? It's not a weakness to let someone take care of you, especially when that someone is me! I'm your brother, Dean, it's what I'm here for – when are you going to get that through your thick skull?" he said, frustration colouring every word.

Dean raised an eyebrow at the thick skull comment but said nothing. He had a feeling there was more to come and he wasn't disappointed.

"I'm asking you to let yourself heal properly – is that such a bad thing? Just promise me you are going to stay there and let me take care of things. Can you do that?" said Sam, almost pleading now.

"Not right now, no." said Dean and Sam glared at him.

"Why not?"

"Because, dumb ass, I still need the bathroom!" said Dean.

Sam blinked then looked embarrassed.

"Oh. Right. Sorry." he said sheepishly and Dean actually did risk an eyeroll this time, even though it was akin to taking a bend on a roller coaster.

Helping Dean up again Sam guided him towards the bathroom, reaching out to flick on the light for him. Once they reached the door Dean put his hand on the doorframe and shrugged Sam's arm off his shoulders.

"Do you need.." began Sam but Dean cut him off.

"Sam, I swear to God, you even think about suggesting helping me go to the bathroom." he said warningly. "I've been managing that myself since I was 3 years old."

"You had better balance when you were 3 years old."

Dean glared at him.

"Fine – but don't lock the door." said Sam.

"For crying out loud." muttered Dean but Sam put his hand on the door, preventing Dean going any further.

"I mean it. You take a dive again I don't want to have to waste time kicking the door in. Unless you want to go by drowning in a toilet?" he said innocently and Dean looked horrified.

"Dude, that's gross!" he said and Sam couldn't help but grin.

"Fine! I won't lock the door." said Dean sounding anything but happy about it. If they stood here debating the matter much longer it was gonna be embarrassing for both of them.

Satisfied, Sam moved his hand and watched as Dean staggered into the room, holding onto the walls to stop himself falling. He kicked the door shut behind him, narrowly missing Sam who pulled his head back just in time. Sam stood there for a second just to make sure he didn't hear the lock click into place.

When it didn't, he moved away to give Dean some privacy and went over to the table to sort out the food. He shrugged off his jacket, throwing it over the back of the chair, and took the cartons out. He opened them up, laid out the knives and forks and opened the bottles of water he'd decided were the safest option.

He heard the toilet flush and a few moments later the sound of running water. When the door didn't open after that he frowned and was just about to stand up anyway when he heard Dean call his name.

Crossing the room in three strides he opened the door and saw his brother sitting there on the edge of the bath, his knuckles white as he gripped it and his head hanging down.

"Dean?" said Sam softly, crouching in front of him and putting his hands on Dean's knees.

Dean opened his eyes and looked down into Sam's concerned gaze.

"I think I need a hand." he said quietly, hating that he had to ask for help even if it was from Sam.

Sam said nothing, knowing that was the best approach, and instead stood up and put his arm round Dean's shoulders again. With Sam's help Dean stood but things shifted and he found himself tilting forward again. This time though instead of falling he ended up leaning against something warm and solid. He realised he was leaning his forehead against Sam's shoulder and he stayed there, feeling too weary and miserable to pull away like he would usually.

Sam ached to see Dean suffering like this and he brought his hand up so it was resting against the back of Dean's neck, steadying himself so he could take some of his brother's weight for a moment.

"Did I mention how much this sucks?" said Dean tiredly, his voice slightly muffled by Sam's shirt.

Sam smiled. "Once or twice." he said and Dean snorted.

"Good. I'd hate not to have made that point really clear." he said.

Sam gave him a moment, content to stand there as long as necessary. Eventually Dean mentally shook himself, squared his shoulders, and pulled back. Sam moved his hand from Dean's neck to his shoulder and kept it there to steady him.

"Ready?" he said and Dean nodded carefully.

"Yeah." he said.

As Sam helped him back into the other room he was hit by the smell of food. His stomach growled loudly and Sam chuckled.

"Hey, I haven't eaten since yesterday." said Dean a little defensively, and Sam laughed even more.

"Good job I brought plenty of food then isn't it?" he said, sounding amused.

"Think you're up to sitting at the table?" he said and Dean risked a sideways glance at him.

"No, I wanna lie in bed and have you spoon feed me." he said.

"You know 'yes' would have covered it just fine." said Sam, as he pulled out one of the chairs and kept hold of Dean's shoulder until he was certain his brother was sitting securely.

Dean gripped the edge of the table for a moment, but he found if he was careful not to move his head too fast he could lean on the table and just about stay upright. At least he couldn't fall over sitting down.

He realised Sam was still standing next to him and risked letting go with one hand long enough to whack him lightly on the arm.

"Would you stop hovering and sit down?" he said and Sam rolled his eyes as he pulled out the other chair and sat down opposite him.

Dean looked down at the food in front of him and took a deep breath, sighing appreciatively at the aroma. It may not be a burger but he had to admit it looked home cooked and it smelled fantastic. Easing both hands off the table carefully he picked up the knife and fork. Hoping this wasn't about to land him face down in his food he started to cut the chicken with slow movements. Once it was in pieces he put the knife down and used his now empty hand to hold on to the table again. He could now pick up the food with just the fork and he felt relatively stable.

He glanced up to see Sam watching him. His brother immediately ducked his head and picked up his own cutlery, attempting to look like he hadn't been staring. Dean smirked.

"Really good call there, Sammy, not offering to cut up my food for me." he said.

Sam looked up again and saw the smirk. He shook his head.

"Please – like I really wanted a fork in the eye." he said and Dean actually laughed out loud at that.

For the next few minutes there was a comfortable silence as they both ate their food hungrily. Dean was pleasantly surprised to find that his stomach didn't seem averse to this and he was actually sorry when he'd finished.

Brushing crumbs from his fingers having finished the last of his roll, he reached out and picked up the bottle of water. He took a sip and grimaced, and Sam sighed.

"It's better for your stomach than coffee or anything fizzy." he said and Dean just looked unimpressed.

Sam ignored the look and stood up, clearing away the now empty containers. Sitting back down again he reached in the bag and took out the last two containers. Dean looked at him quizzically and Sam found himself grinning like an idiot as he put one down in front of him and opened it, practically with a flourish.

The look of sheer delight on Dean's face was both comical and endearing, as far as Sam was concerned anyway. Although he was never going to say that out loud, at least not in Dean's earshot.

Eagerly picking up the fork Sam offered him Dean broke off a large piece of pie and literally shovelled it in his mouth. He closed his eyes, a blissful look on his face.

Sam shook his head and opened his own container, taking a considerably smaller bit of pie.

Dean opened his eyes and broke off another piece.

"I take it all back, Sammy – you're the best brother in the world." he said and Sam just grinned in amusement.

"Yeah, yeah." he said but secretly he was pleased he'd thought to pick up the pie to go with their food. It was always the little things that seemed to mean most to Dean and Sam was happy as ever when he was able to do something nice for his brother.

Dean wolfed down the pie in minutes and he leant back in his chair, washing it down with the last of the water. It was funny how just the fact that Sam had thought to bring him pie made it taste that much nicer.

He winced.

Ok, he was so putting that down to the head injury.

He took a final gulp of water and wondered how long it would be before he could persuade Sam to let him have some coffee.

"I take it you enjoyed all that?" said Samy dryly, clearing away the last of the rubbish and the now empty bottles.

Dean grinned. "You know me, I always enjoy pie." he said,feeling better already.

He yawned suddenly and Sam came back over to stand next to him.

"Maybe you should get some more sleep." he said and Dean held up a hand.

"I already slept, Sam. I don't need an afternoon nap." he said indignantly.

"Well at least sit back on the bed then." said Sam and Dean had no objection to that.

Once Sam had helped him over to it Dean sat down and scooted back so he was leaning against the headboard. He made sure he was in the middle of the bed so there was less chance of sliding off in an ungainly heap if his balance suddenly went again.

Sam put on the TV and handed Dean the remote. He sat down on his own bed, picking up a magazine he'd bought a few days ago and hadn't had a chance to read yet. He glanced up, seeing Dean had settled on some horror movie that he couldn't remember the name of. He shook his head at the totally unconvincing creature chasing a screaming blonde across the screen and went back to reading.

A couple of hours later he looked up at the sound of music and saw the end credits were scrolling across the screen. He was about to ask Dean why he insisted on watching something that was so bad and that he'd seen before when he saw his brother was asleep.

Sam smiled to himself, wondering how much of the film Dean had actually seen. He got up quietly and took the remote out of Dean's lax grip, turning off the TV. He adjusted the pillow so it was in a better position and managed to pull the blanket from under Dean so that he could cover him with it. Dean mumbled but didn't wake up, and Sam looked at him for a moment affectionately. He was glad things seemed to be improving, albeit slowly, and he was hopeful that Dean might be one of the lucky ones who's affliction lasted days and not months.

Glancing at his watch he saw it was just after 6 o'clock. It was dark outside because of the low rain clouds and he walked across to the window and pulled the curtains shut, glancing out briefly to make sure the Impala was ok.

He shook his head. Now he was channelling Dean.

Going back to his bed he stifled a yawn. He tried to read again but his eyes felt too heavy. Maybe Dean had the right idea, he reflected. They'd been on the hunt for the last few days and then Sam had only slept fitfully at the hospital the night before so he was pretty exhausted himself.

Getting changed quickly into sweatpants he got under the covers and turned out the light. He'd just grab a couple of hours.

Within minutes the only sound in the room was the quiet breathing of both Winchesters.


	4. Chapter 4

"You want to do _what_?"

The look that accompanied the question made it seem as if Sam had just suggested they run naked round the parking lot.

"Come on, Dean, we haven't done it for years and who knows? We might find out something interesting. We do have a couple of missing years we never really caught up on properly." he said.

Dean rolled his eyes, something he could now do without feeling like he was going to pass out.

"It might be fun when you're a kid but don't you think it's a bit lame at our age? And besides, I know everything I need to know about you, Sammy." he said with a smirk.

Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Don't tell me you're frightened about what I might ask? I know how much you hate revealing anything, but it's only us in the room, Dean. Your secrets will be safe with me."

"Dude, do you really think that still works on me? I grew out of 'I dare you cos you're scared' years ago you know."

"Well, what do you suggest then, genius? We can't hunt, we can't go for a walk, you can't read – not that you ever want to anyway. We can't play cards since we don't _have _any. I'm running out of ideas here." said Sam.

Dean sighed. Sam had a point. It was only the second day in the Motel room and already they were both bored.

They'd surprised themselves by sleeping straight through till morning after their ridiculously early night but now they were awake, they'd had breakfast, and they were struggling to think of something to pass the time. Sam's idea of 'Twenty Questions' was the first thing either of them had come up with in an hour.

He was fairly certain Sam wouldn't ask anything too awkward, but then knowing his brother he could decide this was a good excuse to try and weed out some really deep stuff, which would of course result in possible bloodshed.

Vertigo or no vertigo.

Sam knew Dean too well of course and so could tell exactly what he was thinking.

"Look we'll keep it to the simple stuff ok? Nothing you're not happy sharing. Although with you that's a really small list but I'm not sure we have enough time to sort out that skewed psyche of yours.."

He was cut off by a pillow that suddenly appeared out of nowhere and almost hit him in the face.

He grinned. "Not bad – your vision must be getting better."

Dean glared.

"Wise ass. Alright then, if that's honestly the best we can do I guess we might as well get on with it. Although I gotta say I'm disappointed – all that time at College and you never learnt any fun stuff to pass the time?" he said with a sigh.

Sam shook his head.

"I learnt plenty of fun stuff, but we're kinda limited since pretty much everything requires the ability to stand up straight. Which you still can't do, remember?"

Dean huffed. "Oh fine, kick a guy when he's down. Go on then Francis – I know you're dying to go first." he said, adopting a long suffering expression.

Sam gave the impression of being deep in thought. He actually did intend to go easy on his brother, figuring he was suffering enough already.

Of course there was no need to let him know that just yet, since he was making such a fuss about the whole thing.

"Alright – favourite colour?" he said after a moment.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Are you kidding me?" he said and Sam held out his hands.

"Hey – you wanted to keep it simple."

"Yeah, simple not stupid!"

"You know what? This is gonna go so well if you object to every question I come up with." said Sam dryly and Dean grimaced but answered, albeit through gritted teeth.

"This so lame. Fine – it's still black." he said.

Sam shook his head. "I'm certain there's a really interesting revelation in there somewhere but I'm not sure I even wanna go there. Ok, your turn." he said.

Dean thought then grinned.

"Ok. Favourite..."

He didn't get to finish as Sam held up a finger warningly.

"Keep it clean, Dean – I mean it."

Dean sighed. "You are such a killjoy, you know that? Fine – favourite song?"

Sam smiled softly. "Aerosmith – Don't Want To Miss A Thing. It was the first slow dance Jess and I had."

Dean looked sympathetic for a second before attempting to lighten the mood.

"I suppose at least it's a decent band, although you had to go with a sappy ballad didn't you?" he said.

Sam rolled his eyes but his lips twitched at the typical Dean response.

"Not everything has to be screamed out at 80 decibels and accompanied by deafening guitar."

"It does to be half decent." said Dean and Sam gave up, knowing there was no point wasting his breath on debating the merits of mullet rock yet again with his brother.

"Favourite food?" he said next and Dean smiled.

"Apple pie. Mom used to let me help her make it. It reminds me of her every time I eat it."

Sam looked at him in surprise.

"I didn't know that." he said quietly and Dean flushed as he realised he'd just revealed more than he intended.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, well – it's no big deal. Ok, favourite place?" he said, keen to shift attention away from what he'd just blurted out.

Sam shifted awkwardly. He knew what he wanted to answer to this one but he also knew he was risking ridicule and months worth of teasing.

Dean noticed and grinned. "Don't tell me, it's somewhere embarrassing. It's ok, Sammy, just between you and me – I swear I'll take it to the grave." he said.

Sam's lips thinned. "You really have to put it like that?" he said, not finding any idea of Dean being near a grave remotely amusing.

"Gee, lighten up would you? And I'm still waiting." said Dean.

Sam sighed. Might as well get it over with.

"If you laugh I am not picking you up off the floor next time you fall over." he warned.

Dean looked impatient. "Whatever – just spit it out would you?"

"Mhughtimalpa." he mumbled.

Dean frowned. "Dude, either you just spoke in another language or now my hearing has gone too. What the hell did you just say?"

Sam closed his eyes and repeated himself a little louder, grudgingly.

"The Impala."

Dean blinked and looked at him.

"The Impala is your favourite place?" he said and Sam nodded, feeling himself go red from the neck up.

Dean wasn't laughing yet though, he just looked confused.

"Why?"

Sam glowed even redder.

Who's idea was this stupid game?

"It's the first place I can really remember, being in the back with you while Dad drove us all over the place. And then later on with you up front, listening to you and Dad talk about the hunt or other stuff. And since Jess died it's been just the two of us – it's kind of the closest thing we have to a home, I guess. And when I'm in it I get reminded of all those all those memories and it just feels. You know." he tailed off, mentally throwing down the shovel and attempting to jump out of the hole he'd just dug himself.

Dean's eyes were suspiciously bright as he looked at Sam, and Sam swore he saw him swallow before he answered.

"Ok." he said and Sam stared at him incredulously.

"That's it? Ok? You're not gonna tell me how lame that is?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't think it is lame. Actually I agree with you." he said simply and now Sam really was speechless.

"Oh." was about all he could manage.

Moving on as if they hadn't just strayed into a 'moment', Dean prompted Sam.

"Your turn."

Sam tried to kick his brain back into gear and think of the next question.

"Favourite sport?"

"Shooting." said Dean without hesitation.

"Dude, that's not what most people would consider a sport." said Sam but Dean shrugged.

"They have competitions in it. You need hand/eye coordination, you have to train for it, you have to take care of your equipment. It's a sport, Sam." he said adamantly and Sam shook his head.

"Ok, it's a sport. To _some _people anyway. Your go."

Dean glared at the implication he was on his own on that one, then grinned evilly as his next question popped into his head.

Sam looked apprehensive. That look so did not bode well for what he was gonna get asked next.

"Favourite film?" he said, certain Sam was gonna pick something girly that he could then tease him about for the rest of the day.

Sam let out a silent sigh of relief. He knew what Dean was assuming his answer would be and he also knew his brother was gonna be surprised.

"The Shining." he said smugly, chuckling at the look on Dean's face.

"Oh come on! No way you're not gonna pick some chick-flick with an inspirational meaning or some crap like that! Since when did you like horror films?" he said indignantly.

"You don't know everything about me, Dean. I never said I don't like horror films, I said I don't like _bad _horror films. That one was pretty good. And it was the first grown up film you let me watch, remember?" he said.

Dean's face softened as he did remember. Curled up on the sofa in a house they were renting somewhere in Washington State, Sam leaning closer and closer as the film progressed even though by that stage he was shying away from physical affection now he was the grand age of 11. By the time it came to the finale Sam had been unashamedly leaning against Dean, and Dean had dropped his arm casually round Sam's shoulders watching with amusement every time his little brother jumped. Sam had enjoyed the film despite being terrified, Dean recalled now, although John had been less impressed with the nightmares that had followed for a week afterwards.

Sam had vocally defended Dean's decision to let him watch the film though, and he'd pointed out that Dean had been no older when he'd first watched it. Presented with Sam's staunch defence and not really able to argue that point, John had let it go. Dean remembered he had felt guilty abut the nightmares, but Sam had been insistent that he'd enjoyed the film and, he'd been so pleased that Dean had treated him as 'grown up' enough to watch it that Dean had felt ok about it in the end.

Looking at the soft smile on Sam's face he knew his brother was probably remembering all that too, and that it may have something to do with why it was his favourite film.

He shook his head. He'd been right about this whole thing – somehow every answer they were both giving was dragging them far closer to a Dr Phil moment than he was comfortable with.

He should have known.

As if aware they were nearing Dean's limit the next question Sam asked was innocuous enough and didn't involve a trip down memory lane. The following topics ranged from favourite actors and bands to favourite books, although there had been a slightly heated debate on that one when Sam disputed a graphic novel being an actual book. Dean had been adamant though and in the end it was quicker – and safer – to give in.

Before they knew it they realised they'd been playing the game for three hours. The time had flown by and they'd both enjoyed finding out interesting, and sometimes surprising, information about each other. It felt to Sam like it closed some of the gaps that were still left after his time at Stanford. And it had been fun.

Not that he was gonna be able to get Dean to admit that of course.

Having talked their way through lunch they decided to go for an early dinner. Sam made his now regular trip to the Diner and came back with the burger Dean had insisted his stomach was up to now.

There was minor grumbling about lack of extra onions, but Sam was not to be persuaded on that one. They had however compromised on the coffee and Dean's appreciation of caffeine distracted him from his onion free meal.

They ate in pleasant silence and when Sam once again produced two pieces of apple pie when they'd finished there was an added warmth to the gesture, now they were both aware of the memories Dean associated with it.

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam's sappy look but he couldn't stop the smile that broke out on his own face when he saw it, and he decided he might as well give up and go with it.

Although it was never leaving the room that they'd had this 'Waltons' moment.

As they both tucked in it felt to Sam almost like he was sharing some of Dean's memory of Mary, and he vowed silently to try and make sure they encountered apple pie more often. It certainly explained why Dean was always so excited whenever somewhere they were eating had it on the menu.

He smiled to himself. Perhaps there was finally some good coming from their enforced break. He still wished Dean wasn't having to suffer like this, but he had to admit that lack of escape meant his brother finally revealed a little more of himself than usual.

Even if it was still peppered with enough Dean-isms to stop things getting too mushy.

Taking another bite of pie he reflected he was actually going to be a little sorry when things were back to normal.

"Hey, Sam? Maybe later we can move on to the _really_ interesting questions." said Dean suddenly.

Ok. Maybe not _that _sorry.


	5. Chapter 5

When Dean woke up on the third day since leaving hospital he was surprised to see it was only just after 6 o'clock. Normally it was Sam who was the early riser, but a glance across the room showed his brother was still asleep.

He lay there for a moment in the pale light, enjoying the silence. He realised he hadn't felt this rested in a long time and he reflected that maybe the enforced break hadn't been such a bad thing. It had given both of them a chance to relax and recharge, although he could have done without the vertigo bit of course. But then without that he'd have had them back on the road the day he left hospital, so perhaps it was the universe's way of forcing him to slow down.

Although the universe was gonna get it's ass kicked if it pulled a stunt like this again.

As he shifted he realised he didn't feel quite so much like he was on a moving boat. Sitting up, he tentatively rolled his head from side to side and was pleasantly surprised when the room shifted only slightly.

Deciding to chance his luck he swung his legs out of bed and very slowly stood up. He grinned when he didn't end up face down on the carpet. This was definitely going to be a good day.

Staying quiet so as not to wake Sam, he grabbed some fresh clothes from his bag and headed for the bathroom. He wasn't just being kind letting Sam sleep – he was avoiding the inevitable discussion about him taking a shower. They'd had to compromise the previous day and finally settled on a bath, with the proviso Dean kept the door unlocked.

He wasn't going to admit it to Sam but it had been a smart decision. He'd very nearly slipped when he stood to get out and his balance went again, and he had an idea that if he'd chanced a shower – standing up the whole time – he really would probably have knocked himself out again.

But now he felt relatively stable as he walked, more like he'd had a couple of beers rather than being totally drunk, and he was pretty confident that he could take a shower without killing himself. He closed the door quietly behind him.

What Sam didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

When Sam woke he kept his eyes closed for a bit, enjoying the chance to just lie in for a change. When they were on a hunt they were always on a timetable and even when they were just travelling Dean kept them on a tight schedule, always keen to get to the next job. To wake up knowing there was nothing they should be doing and nowhere they should be was kind of liberating.

As he lay there he could hear the birds singing, the odd car going by, the sound of the shower running.

The shower was running.

Sam sat up so fast for a brief second he had an idea what Dean must be going through. Throwing the blankets back and leaping out of bed he crossed the room in two strides. He was seconds away from opening the door when self preservation reminded him Dean would most likely not appreciate that very much.

So he settled for banging on the door with his fist instead.

"Dean!" he yelled.

He heard swearing followed by an indignant reply.

"What!"

"What do you think you're doing?"

A pause. "Well, I _think_ I'm taking a shower! Was that supposed to be a trick question?"

Sam closed his eyes and tried to remember if all their guns were in the Impala.

"This door better not be locked!" he warned, and he swore he could _hear _Dean's eye roll.

"For crying out loud, Sam! No, it's not locked but don't even think about coming in here! I'll be out in a second!"

Sam ran his hands through his hair in frustration and sat back down on his bed, fuming.

Dean leant against the wall of the shower for a second and waited for his heart to get out of his mouth. He was gonna kill Sam for that – he'd nearly had a heart attack when he heard Sam's yell.

Up till then he'd been enjoying his shower and he hadn't even felt too dizzy. Finishing washing he switched off the water, stepped out very carefully and dried himself quickly. Pulling on his jeans and t-shirt he ran a hand through his still wet hair and opened the door.

He stomped out, glaring at Sam who glared right back.

"Are you trying to kill me? You damn near gave me a heart attack when you yelled like that, Sam!" he said, before his brother could say anything.

"Me give _you _a heart attack? What did you think you were doing in there? If you'd slipped I wouldn't even have known about it until I woke up!" he said, sounding equally annoyed.

"Well I didn't slip, did I? God, you really do exaggerate sometimes!" said Dean as he put his sleeping clothes back in the bag.

"Exaggerate? You can't stand up on your own and yet you're taking.." Sam stopped suddenly, watching as Dean walked round normally, albeit slower and more carefully than usual.

"You're walking!" he exclaimed and Dean turned to look at him, raising his eyebrows.

"Could you not make it sound like I'm a year old and I just took my first steps? Yes, I'm walking, Sam – that's why I felt perfectly safe taking a shower." he said.

"Well why the hell didn't you say it was better this morning?" demanded Sam and Dean shook his head.

"And when should I have done that? Before or after you threw yourself at the door and yelled like a banshee?" he said dryly.

"I did _not _yell like a banshee."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, sure you didn't. I think people in the next State heard you, Sammy." he said, sounding amused.

Sam ignored the jibe. "So you really do feel better?" he said and Dean shrugged.

"Not 100, but better than it has been. I only get dizzy if I move my head too fast and my balance is definitely improving." he said and Sam grinned.

"That's great!" he said, sounding like Dean had just discovered the secret of the universe.

Dean knew a distraction was in order before Sam made a big deal of his recovery.

"So, since I'm feeling better why don't you get ready and we can go out for breakfast?"

Sam quelled the urge to get too excited that Dean was feeling much better, knowing it wouldn't go down well. Inside he was thrilled though.

Who'd have thought the simple act of watching his brother walk around on his own could mean so much?

Grabbing his things he showered and was ready in record time. As they went outside Dean took a deep breath of fresh air and sighed happily. It felt good to be outside after being cooped up for four days, if you included his time spent in hospital. Sam still insisted on driving and Dean wasn't feeling well enough to risk getting dizzy and crashing his baby anyway.

The drive to the Diner only took 10 minutes but Dean was pleased to find the experience much better than the last time he'd been in the car.

The woman behind the counter recognised Sam and smiled as she greeted them. Once they were sat in one of the booths she brought them both coffee and took their order. Dean sat back watching the other people, simply content to be up and about again. Sam meanwhile watched Dean, at least until his brother kicked his shin under the table without even looking at him. Sam glared and rubbed his now throbbing leg and Dean smirked, even though he still hadn't turned round.

Taking the hint, Sam turned his attention to the window and watched the cars coming and going in the parking lot. It was fairly busy even though it was still early and having sampled the food Sam could understand why.

Despite being busy it didn't take long for their breakfasts to arrive. As they tucked in Dean gestured to the outside with his fork.

"So we should probably think about our next job, now this whole thing is wearing off." he said.

Sam felt a flash of disappointment. He'd enjoyed spending this time just hanging out with his brother and he found himself wishing they got the chance to do it more often.

"Ok." he said reluctantly. "Although I'm not convinced you're up to hunting yet."

Dean frowned. "Maybe not but if we look for something down south then it'll take us a few days to get there anyway. By the time we do I'll be fine."

"I guess." said Sam and Dean chuckled.

"Don't go getting all broody there, Sammy. I'm not gonna hunt if I don't feel right, you know I wouldn't put you in danger like that." he said seriously.

Sam rolled his eyes. Right, cos putting him in danger was what he was worried about. He wished it would sometimes occur to Dean that he should have the same reservations about putting _himself_ in danger.

They finished their breakfast and paid the bill, leaving a tip as it was the last time they'd be eating there. Sam looked wistfully at the counter as they left. Proper food had been nice for a change.

As they walked back to the Impala at a leisurely pace Dean suddenly nudged Sam with his shoulder.

"Listen, I just wanted to say, you know. Thanks. For the last few days." he said, looking awkward as always whenever forced to be serious about something.

Sam heard the words that were left unspoken though.

_Thanks for taking care of me._

_Thanks for looking out for me._

_Thanks for not letting me fall._

He smiled. "No problem." he said simply and as Dean glanced at him he knew his brother heard the words he didn't say aloud either.

_It's what I'm here for._

_That's my job._

_I never will._

Dean nudged Sam one more time and walked round the Impala to the passenger side.

As they pulled out of the parking lot and headed back to check out of the Motel, Dean let out a contented sigh.

He wasn't pleased about getting hurt, and vertigo was definitely not on his list of things to experience twice, but the last few days had had their moments. Whilst it wasn't something he ever wanted to get used to, relying on Sam and having his brother take care of him hadn't been as bad as he'd expected. And he knew sometimes Sam liked to feel like he was able to do something for Dean too, so it had served more than one purpose.

And as lame as it sounded, the whole 'Twenty Questions' thing had been quite fun, and enlightening too.

But that was something he was keeping to himself.

No, all in all he'd been lucky. Things could have been much worse and he guessed when it came down to it, sometimes you had to fall to realise there was someone there to catch you.

And that was not a bad lesson to learn at all.


End file.
